


Property Rights

by Northland



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, legal status of droids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-01 07:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13993419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northland/pseuds/Northland
Summary: “Was it really necessary to reprogram an Imperial security droid and thenbring it back?” Draven asked. “Why not just leave the damn thing behind?"





	Property Rights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaragdbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this, smaragdbird; it was a lot of fun to research & write, and now I really want an entire series about droids in the Rebellion...

When he was really angry, Colonel Draven got quieter and quieter. It was an obvious manipulation tactic, and Cassian had caught on to it by the time he was eleven, but it still worked. He found himself wanting to shrink, his shoulders trying to fold in on themselves like a hunted animal.

“Was it really necessary to reprogram a fucking Imperial security droid and then _bring it back_?” Draven asked, soft and surgically precise. “Why not just leave the damn thing behind? You didn’t need it any longer.”

 _They would have wiped him_. But that instinctive reaction wouldn’t pass muster as a defense of his actions, so Cassian braced his spine straight and fell back on logic. “Sir, a KX series droid could be very useful. Think of all the infiltration missions we could run with a technical asset who can decrypt Imperial signals, get inside their facilities without suspicion, break their code faster than any organic slicer—”

“Yes, I can see the potential tactical advantages, thank you,” Draven sighed. “That doesn’t change the fact that an uncontrolled and apparently now uncontrollable Imperial droid on a Rebel base is not an entirely positive outcome.” He dropped the datapad with Cassian's mission report on his desk with a bang. “What were you thinking, Andor? _Were_ you thinking at all? Why didn't you at least put a restraining bolt on it?”

Cassian’s surge of offended disgust at the suggestion was too strong to hide, and Draven groaned. “You damned Separatists and your lofty ideals. They won’t be much good to you if that droid reverts to baseline programming. You’ll be wishing you had a way to put it down quickly.”

Draven’s disapproval was a potent force; the man had nearly raised him, after all, was the closest thing to a father figure Cassian had. Yet Cassian couldn’t bring himself to regret what he’d done. He remained in parade rest, waiting for the order to decommission K-2SO, and wondered how guilty he'd feel about it tomorrow.

But then Draven sat down behind his desk and propped his elbows on it, resting his chin on folded hands; this was a signal that Cassian wasn’t completely off the hook, but the Colonel was willing to be persuaded. “You don’t even have high enough official clearance to be its registered owner. How am I supposed to finesse that, give you an emergency promotion to Sergeant?” Draven cocked his head inquiringly. “I know you’re ambitious, Private, but I didn’t see that one coming.”

“Why does he need an owner at all?” Cassian asked. It didn’t make sense—half the droids on base were wandering around without a current registration. “If an astromech can belong to a pilot who died two years ago, or just be the property of Red Squadron in general, why does K-2SO have to be mine specifically?”

“Because a Class Four droid is a restricted weapon and a potential source of classified information,” Draven said impatiently. “You should have thought it through before you stole one.”

Cassian hadn’t _stolen_ K-2SO, precisely; he’d just given him a ride offworld and suggested he might find a use for his skills in the Rebellion. But again, Draven wouldn't consider that relevant.

“Look, sir.” He still chose his words carefully, but frustration was getting the better of him and his tone began to fray into anger. “K-2SO decided to join the Alliance of his own free will, as far as he has one. I didn’t try to influence his reasoning; he analyzed the data and came to this conclusion on his own. And I didn’t want to discourage that kind of initiative” —Draven snorted, but made no other comment— “in a droid. He could be very useful. If he becomes a danger to anyone on this base, I’ll take care of it. You have my word.”

“Do I?” Draven steepled his fingers in front of his mouth and stared levelly at Cassian.

Cassian held his gaze with conscious, wide-eyed sincerity. “Yes, sir.”

“Very well, then. But _you_ will be explaining the new member of the droid pool to Chief Technician Ngallo. _You_ will be K-2SO’s recorded owner, and _you_ will be responsible if it so much as breaks a teacup it wasn’t supposed to.”

He flicked his hand toward the door. “Congratulations, Sergeant Andor. You're dismissed.”

Not great, but it could have been worse—much worse. Cassian saluted, just crisply enough to make it clear he thought Draven was being an ass, and left.

 

The base on Yavin 4 was still new and raw in contrast to the mellow, worn stone of the pyramids it had been grafted on. Generators and power lines were still being installed and recharging stations for droids were limited. But Cassian found K-2SO plugged in all alone in the closest one. It seemed other droids had been scared off by his gaunt lethality, even though he was wearing the pair of heavy-duty binders Ngallo had insisted on before she’d let Cassian leave for his debriefing.

Cassian pulled out his key and pressed it to the lock plate. The binders clicked open and dropped heavily into his palm. “Meet your new registered owner, at least on paper,” he said. “If you’re okay with it.”

“Why are you asking me?” K-2SO’s vocoder had been modulating irregularly since Cassian had tinkered with it to expand the parameters for independent speech rather than simple pre-programmed responses. It sounded like his voice was cracking, and Cassian tried not to smile; it reminded him of going through puberty and spending the first half of each sentence uncertain whether the end of it would be in the same key. “Am I allowed to refuse?”

“Yes and no.” Cassian sat down on a stool and picked up a deactivated mouse droid left abandoned on the workbench. He turned it over to run a finger over the links of its tracks; those were usually the trouble spots. “It was either that or have them put a restraining bolt on you. I assumed you’d prefer to have an owner and no bolt. But if I guessed wrong, let me know.”

“It’s not optimal, but it is acceptable.” The droid’s optical processors flickered and brightened as a power surge ran through the connector cable.

“What would be optimal?” Cassian asked, honestly curious. “Do you even care about your legal status?”

“Optimal would be not having to consider my legal status except insofar as it affects my day to day existence. Like most sentient beings.” Security droids didn’t have the gesture of a shrug programmed into their response sets, but something about the angle of K-2’s metal shoulder caps suggested one.

Cassian snorted before he could help himself. “That’s nothing to be proud of.”

“Why should I be concerned about the millions of other lifeforms in the galaxy?” K-2SO asked. “I was not programmed for altruism.”

“It’s not altruism,” Cassian argued. He set the mouse droid down and leaned forward. “Yes, people can do awful things even if they have self-determination. Maybe most organic beings do. But that doesn’t mean I want them to live as slaves, or be locked into systems of governance that are—are unrepresentative, and tyrannical, and—”

“You’re getting louder. Also, your heart rate is increasing and your epidermis is flushed.” K-2SO cocked his head at an angle. “Are you sexually aroused?”

Cassian choked and coughed a rusty laugh into his hand. “Some people would say that the only thing that turns me on is politics… but no. I do get passionate about them, though.”

“I do not feel passion for anything. Nor do I have any interest in what other droids prefer.” And the tone of K-2’s vocoder was indeed supremely disinterested. “After all, there are no other droids like me in the Rebellion, as far as I’m aware. The astromechs here are crude and simple-minded. All they know is navigational algebra.”

Cassian laughed again. “Tell that to Threece when you meet her, I’d like to hear her response.” It would probably be unrepeatable. R3-S1, the self-appointed head of the astromech pool on Yavin 4, didn’t have much use for human-shaped droids.

K-2 was correct that they wouldn’t have the same concerns, though. Astromechs saw combat from the targeting and maintenance side, trying to help pilots hit things or hold their fighters together with hasty soldering, wire and electrical tape. They didn’t have the same tactical capacity that K-2 did, and they were hardly built for covert operations.

Of course, neither was K-2SO. Cassian’s theory that he could be a helpful infiltration partner was untested and Draven had certainly made his low opinion of it clear.

“If I must have a legal owner, I’m willing to accept you as the person in question. So far you’ve been reasonable and rational, for an organic creature.” K-2 stopped speaking for a moment and the lights of his optical processors flickered as he ran through various scenarios. “However, based on the data I have access to, your survival beyond three point two standard years is vanishingly unlikely. In that case, I would be once again left without recourse. Would I become legal property of the Alliance? If the Alliance even exists at that point and hasn’t been thoroughly annihilated,” he added parenthetically. “All tactical data I’ve been able to extrapolate from suggests that swift defeat is the most likely outcome, at a forty-one percent probability.”

Cassian blinked. Well, the droid certainly hadn’t had any subroutines for tact installed. “No-one knows what will happen, Kaytoo, and chance still plays a role in life. I agree that the Alliance is currently outmatched, but as more systems join us, that will change.”

“Possible, though not probable,” K-2 said. “However, that still doesn’t answer the question of what may happen to me after your demise.”

“Right.” Cassian sat up straighter, rubbing the point of strain between his eyes that reminded him he hadn’t had sleep or food in too long. “I guess I could write some sort of will or directive that you should be given the choice of whether to re-up with the Alliance after I die.”

Cassian had no idea if that was even possible, legally speaking, but K-2 had a point. The average security droid was built to last for a good nine decades; Cassian didn’t expect to see the end of his third. K-2SO would outlive him by a sizeable margin, so he couldn’t fault the droid for taking the short lifespan of a soldier into consideration. It was undoubtedly prudent to consider what would happen to “his” droid after he was gone. And for that matter…

“You know that as far as I’m concerned, you’re free to go any time, right? If you change your mind about the Rebellion and want to strike out on your own, I won’t stop you. Just don’t desert in the middle of a mission, that’s all I ask.”

K-2 tilted his head down with a squeak of poorly lubricated joints, and Cassian made a note to suggest an oil bath soon. “K-X droids are not programmed to quit. I’ve never abandoned a mission unless directed to by a superior officer.”

“Good, then. Nice to know where we stand.” Cassian stood up and held out his hand. “Welcome to the Alliance to Restore the Republic, K-2SO. Can I call you Kay?”

“You may.” With a whir of servomotors, Kay took Cassian’s flesh and blood hand delicately between his cold metal fingers. He squeezed just a shade too hard as he pumped his fist up and down, making Cassian’s elbow flap. “This is the human custom known as ‘shaking on it,’ correct? Am I doing it right?”

“Perfectly,” Cassian assured him. “I look forward to working with you, Kay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to **l_cloudy** for quick  & thoughtful beta reading!
> 
> Some of the sources consulted: _Cynabar’s Fantastic Technology: Droids_ ; _Rogue One: the Ultimate Visual Guide_ , where I found R3-S1 aka “Threece” the chief astromech; and _Secret Mission_ , the middle-grade retelling of Rogue One, which includes a surprising amount of detail on everyone's backstories.


End file.
